Living Dead Girl
by Flatfoot88
Summary: Based off of Rob Zombie's "Living Dead Girl".  Raven is dead, and Robin will do whatever it takes to get her back.  This is for all the people who made a request signed, ': ', you know who you are
1. Chapter 1

_"What are you thinking about?" Rob Zombie Living Dead_ Girl

First off, I just wanted to say thanks to all my readers, for their loyalty, and waiting patiently while I finished _Starting Over_. That really did mean a lot to me. I have been asked repeatedly by people through anonymous messages signed ;), to write a macabre Teen Titans story featuring Raven and Robin. I am willing to work with you, because you have requested and I will deliver. Now, for the disclaimer; I do not own the Teen Titans, or the lyrics that this work is based around. Now that that is out of the way, sit back and enjoy.

Take it Easy, -N.

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><p>He couldn't believe that she was gone. She meant so much to everyone and now, she was dead, and here he was, attending her funeral service. He couldn't even believe how it had happened. It wasn't like she was killed by Slade, or that one of their enemies had finally gotten lucky enough to bring her down, no, it was a person who was too drunk to stand up, much less be behind the wheel of a car.<p>

He would never forget that night. They had gone out to celebrate her birthday, the big 21, something she was finally free to look forward to, now that her father was truly gone, locked away in some hell dimension for all time. So, so it being her birthday, they had all agreed that she chose where they went, what they did, and who they'd be doing it with; naturally, that didn't fly with the others.

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><p>The first shocker was how she had dressed. They had all expected to see her in her usual outfit; black leotard, boots and cloak. That day, she was sporting a black leather skirt, a skirt! And not just any skirt, a <em>leather <em>one that fell to mid-thigh. He remembered what had happened when Kori had tried to get her to wear one years ago; they had spent over two months replacing all the windows and fried electronics that her little outburst had caused. Her boots had been replaced by three inch stilettos that made her legs seem much taller than he remembered, but what was icing on the cake was the shirt she was wearing. It was a simple wife-beater, proclaiming in black letters, 'Screw Stacy's Mom; I've got it going on!' He knew then that the day was going to be, at the very least interesting.

When they had gotten over her new attire, the problems seemed to start in full force. Gar had complained about the food she ordered for them at her favorite restaurant. He'd be lying though if he said that watching him trying to swallow something that was cut from some critter wasn't entertaining. When it came time for them to go to the club she had always wanted to visit but they never did, the guy had the nerve to demand that they try and find something less 'Raven'. Kori, still smiling, had begged and pleaded that she be allowed to go home one hour in; her reason being that the crowd and the music of the club was moving her well out of her comfort zone. Even Vic had wanted to leave, worried about leaving his car alone in the neighborhood, afraid that someone would be stupid enough to try and do something to the vehicle. He could see the anger boiling in her eyes at them, and it was only after pouring a couple of drinks down their throats that he had managed to convince them to stay.

As for Raven though, when it had come time to leave, at closing time mind you, they had to physically remove her because of how badly she wanted to stay and, quote the dark bird, "keep partying". While they were there, she had insisted that he dance every song with her, and when they were leaving, she had pinned him to the wall, simply stating that, "she wanted her birthday kiss, _now_". He knew it was the booze talking, that she would have never acted that way if she was sober. Still though, he had willingly obliged her, and after they parted, his head almost exploded when she pulled off the wall and wrapped her arms around him.

"Rick, there are two _very _important things that you need to know about me tonight." At her statement, he laughed; he couldn't believe that she was acting this way. Raven, the most stone-faced person he had ever met, who it was a personal victory to make smile on any type of occasion, was acting like any other 'buzzed' girl in the city; flirty and approachable. She would make his life hell for months, if not years when she found out about this, but it would be worth it. If anything, it would give him something to smile about later.

"And what would that be?" When he cocked his head to the side, she giggled causing his grin to turn into a full blown smirk. It was nice to see her like this, but still, he knew it wasn't right. When she sobered up, he knew she would hate his guts, but right now, it was too hard not to flirt and play along with her. It wasn't often she could be partnered with this word, but the way Raven was acting made her look well, cute. No, _desirable._

"First, contrary to popular belief, I _never_ lock my bedroom door at night," she pulled his face to her so that he was forced to stare at her, and he saw her eyes glowing with something he couldn't quite identify. "And secondly," she jumped into his arms wrapping her legs around his waist and ignoring the laughs from their friends, gently rubbed her pelvis against his. "I'm not wearing any underwear tonight." She slowly climbed off of him then, and almost purposely walked away, with a slight pop in her hips. He couldn't help but stare. That was when the night went straight to hell.

If he hadn't been thinking about what she had said, what she was offering, he would have seen the silver Lincoln. Instead, he watched horrified, as it slammed her across the pavement. He could do nothing but move towards her as she flopped across the road. Dimly, he remembered seeing the car come to stop on top of a fire hydrant and the man rolling himself out of the vehicle. He was finally running when her body came to a halt. With a gentle urgency, he lifted her into his arms, and saw that their friends could only stare at what had just happened. Ignoring the blood that was slowly pooling around him, he held her close. She was gone, he knew that, and he was to blame. He did something then that he swore he would never to again in his life. Something that he had promised he would never do since his parents were laid into the ground. He held the small broken bundle close, not bothering to hide the tears, refusing to let her go even as the police arrived to take her away.

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><p>As he stood over her now though, he was shocked that she looked so peaceful. In life, she was always so withdrawn, so forlorn. It was like she didn't know any other way to live since she had freed herself from her father. Now though, she looked truly calm, like people always say at these stupid things, she really did look like she was sleeping. He found himself staring at her, her hair combed, washed, and styled perfectly around her face; you would have never known that her skull was caved in from striking the concrete so many times. Her skin, it was always pale, but now had an almost ghostly white tone to it. The dress she wore seemed to only make it worse. For a moment he laughed, knowing that were she still around, she would have never allowed them to put her inside it. Then, reality struck him, she <em>really <em>was dead. And the white strapless number that fell over her body only seemed to remind him of what she looked like at the morgue.

He was the only one brave enough to have gone to claim her body. Victor was withdrawn, that was to be expected. He treated Raven like the sister he never had. When she had died, he just stood in shock over them. Even when he screamed for the man to get help, he had just stood there, frozen in disbelief that such a thing had happened. Garfield, he didn't even come out of his room after it had happened. He had been crushing on Raven for years, but she had repeatedly told him, she only liked the guy as a friend. When it happened, he had knelt beside him, crying. Kori, she had been the worse. When it happened, she seemed to refuse to believe that Raven was gone. The girl cried non-stop for days, saying that Raven would be back and that she would wake up and everything would be as it once was. As for him, he had gone to collect her from the hospital, to bring her home where she belonged.

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><p>When he had arrived, he gagged on the stench of the bleach and formaldehyde. They had placed her in a separate area away from all the others. They had cleaned her, and he was grateful when they asked if he wanted a few moments alone. As he stood by her, fingering the paper sheet they had pulled up over the incisions, he did what he wished he could have done to her in life. With a shaking hand, he traced her cheek, marveling at how soft her skin was. It was then that he again lost it, the legendary self-control that the city envied him for having. He screamed as he tore the room apart. Tools flew through the air and tables were tipped over. He slammed himself against the tiled walls, and punched his reflection in the mirrors, damning himself for not being able to do something that night. Whenever a nurse or doctor tried to come in to stop him, he screamed for them to leave, and they willingly complied. When it was over, the walls were cracked and all the glass was broken; he sobbed quietly at her side, ignoring the blood pouring from his hands. "You can't be gone. Raven you just can't be fucking gone. The team, we need you." <em>I need you.<em>

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><p>As he walked away from her and took his seat with the others, he couldn't stop thinking about the events that led up to this moment. When the mayor lifted his bulk off the chair he sat at, Richard couldn't help but feel disgust at his words. The man spoke of how she was loved by the community, at how everyone understood and cared for her, how he even thought of her as his daughter and how she would be missed. How Raven was the little sister to everyone in the city, and that they all felt their loss. He figured that maybe the bit about her being missed was true. She was almost unstoppable in a fight; no matter how bad it was, her gifts always gave them the edge they needed to win. Everything else the man said though, those were lies. Everyone knew it; he was just the only one willing to admit it.<p>

When she wasn't fighting to save their precious city, the people ostracized her. They gave her a wide berth, as if she had some sort of fatal disease. Even amongst the team, she was treated differently, like they were afraid that she would finally give in to her dark urges and kill them all. He was the only one that ever greeted her openly. Who would always ask how she was doing and genuinely mean it. He was the one who would listen to her frustrations, would go the extra mile to make her feel wanted, and most importantly, provide the shoulder that she frequently needed to cry on. That was the one thing he regretted though, that he had gotten himself stuck in the 'friend zone' with her.

He watched then as each of his remaining teammates rose and said a few words about how they would miss her. They spoke true, he knew that much. About how they loved her, and how they would miss her, that they were saddened by her untimely demise. But still, how could they give up on her so easily! She had died before and come back, this would be no different. She just needed some help this time, that's all.

When it came time for him to speak, he didn't hesitate at what he had to say. "You all make me sick," he made sure to gaze into the crowd, at their shocked and disgusted faces. He knew she would have been angry at him for taking pleasure at their reactions, but still though, it felt good to be calling them out. "You all act like you were her closest friends, that you understood her best. But that is the biggest load of horse shit I have ever heard. Unless she was busy protecting your _precious _city, you wanted nothing to do with her. I cannot begin to tell you how many times she wished that she could just die, so that she wouldn't have to deal with your staring. Well, now she's gone, and this," he waved his arms at the countless roses and lilies, the pictures and lit candles, even the news reporters who were covering the service. He stopped gesturing then to point his hand at the gaudy ice-sculpture the city council had commissioned of her. "This three-ring circus, this travesty, is at an end. Just leave, and let her rest in peace," _for the time being._ He turned away from the crowd, ignoring their grumbling and went into the crypt. With a shaking hand, he touched that flawless face once more, and with a shove, slid the lid in place.

The others had filed in behind him, hearing the stone scream into place. Victor was the only one who spoke; he was the person who had no problem saying what needed to be said. He was always grateful for the man's ability to break the silence; this time though, this time was not one of them. "Rob, Richard, man, I know that you're upset she's gone," he barked out a laugh. _That is the understatement of the freaking _century.

"You cannot even begin to understand what I am feeling right now Cy." He was chuckling now, but really didn't care. Let them think he was crazy. He could deal with that. What he couldn't live with at the moment, was all of them there. They presence was stifling, and he needed to be alone, with her. She just couldn't be gone, she had to be back. Life wasn't life when she was gone; it was like some sick cosmic joke. "You want to know how I feel." He turned from where her body sat to the others. They all were standing close to each other, as if taking strength from the other's presence. In their eyes he could see the sadness and mourning for Raven as well as the concern they felt for him. It was to be expected, he figured; he was acting anything but normal. How would he react if one of them were acting the way he was?

"I feel like I failed her. Not just that, 'I should have been able to save her,' kind of failed her. I'm talking about the kind of failure that includes not talking to her ore, or getting to know her better. Hell, I even mean the kind of failure like 'not taking her out on a single fucking_ date.'_ I failed her as a friend and a human being. Hell, we failed her!" He looked at them all, and was slightly pleased when they hung their heads. Out of shame or guilt, he didn't really care. Just so long as they started to feel an iota of what he was suffering through.

He turned away and knelt down before her stone. He needed to think, and she always helped him with that. She gave him insight, and helped him dissect his problem. She helped him looked at his situation from all the angles, not just his one singular train of thought. "Rob, we gotta get going, we're going to miss the wake." He didn't even acknowledge the statement with a noise, he just pointed at them to leave. If they wanted to give up on her, fine, he could figure this out alone. He wasn't done yet. He had walked into hell to get her back. Bringing her back from the dead actually seemed like it would be much easier to accomplish than his previous endeavor. For now though, he just needed to think.

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><p>He didn't know how long he had kneeled before her. His body was sore, but he didn't care. She was gone, that was all that mattered now. He knew he would figure out how to get her back, he just couldn't think of it, yet. Sleep was pointless; he knew he would see her face then, that she would haunt him with promises of how she loved him that she would give herself to him. Then he would wake up, and the cold painful reality would set in, and she would still be gone. He wasn't even sure if he was still awake, everything seemed to blur around the question in his mind, 'How can I get her back?'<p>

He didn't care that another person joined him at his silent vigil. He was just grateful that they had not acknowledged him, that they cared enough to place a single rose on the white marble, and to not break silence with useless words and meaningless sobs. Then he felt it, the figure beside him placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hello Richard." The voice rang out like a blade against a whetstone; cold and precise, always to the point. He would never _not_ know who that was.

He didn't even feel the urge to fight, she was gone, that was the only thing he cared about; attacking the man who had caused him countless amounts of grief seemed meaningless. He wasn't even surprised that the man was still alive. He could still be dead for all he knew, that the person before him was just his mind messing with him, again. Still though, it felt nice to know that even one's most hated enemy would respectfully attend their funeral. "Slade," he turned back to the sealed stone, willing it to open, for her to rise and tell him that this was her first and only attempt at humor but knew it wouldn't. "Thanks for coming." Tearing himself away from his vigil, he turned and looked the man over.

If Slade hadn't spoken, Richard would have never known it was his most hated rival. The armor was gone and replaced with a plain black suit. Even his mask was gone, a mane of white hair and a single blue eye stared back. Even as he mourned the loss of Raven, he couldn't help but think that this was probably the only time he would ever have a remote chance of beating the man. _No, respect Raven; wait til he's outside the gates. Then bust his skull in._

"Richard, stop skulking around, we both know that she wouldn't stand for it." He laughed; the most evil person he had ever met was telling _him_ how to act, was saying that he knew the woman he cared about more than him. It was absurd. And probably true.

"Well then, what should I do?"

"Move on with your life. There is nothing you can do, and you know that she would be disgusted to know that you are spending your life mourning in front of a stone."

"There has to be something." He turned back to the rock, and the hand returned, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, something that could possibly be interpreted as compassion. He heard the footsteps recede then, but still, the voice seemed to remain, to echo in the halls.

"My boy, I know many things, but even I don't know how to raise the dead. Something like that would take a deal with the devil." '_A deal with the devil.' _He thought about it, and it didn't seem so bad. Except, he wouldn't be making a deal. If he was going to do this, he would be taking, not dealing. He wouldn't promise anything in exchange, he would take what he wanted, and that particular devil would be grateful that he let him live.

"Richard?"

Yes, it would be simple, he would call the creature, and get the information that he wanted, forcefully if necessary.

"Richard, what are you thinking about?"

He turned then, and realized that he was standing. Raising a hand to his face, he felt the light stubble on his skin, and figured he had to have been there for at least one day. The sun was down, and he could see the moon glowing brightly in the sky, casting shadows on the stones and crypts. He couldn't help but think that, in a dark way, it was almost beautiful, the stark white and black against each other. _She would appreciate the view._ "Richard?"

He turned; half-expecting to see Slade standing beside him, but instead it was Kori, still wreathed in black and puffy-eyed from the service however many days ago.

"Hey," he turned away from her and walked out of the chamber. When she followed, he sealed the room, giving the tomb one last look as the door slid shut. He stopped for a moment, listening to the locks spinning into place. They would be easy enough to hack and open, he hadn't lived as the apprentice of the world's greatest detective and escape artist without learning a _few _things. The two walked in silence, and when they reached the gates, she spoke again.

"Are you all right Richard?" It was then that he smiled; it felt like he hadn't done it in centuries. He noticed her discomfort at the smirk he wore. He figured, let her wonder, he had a plan and wanted to get it done. As soon as possible.

"I'm just _fine_ Kori," she followed him to his motorcycle, and seemed uneasy, and again spoke.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing," he slammed the kick start down hard, and with a vengeance away from the cemetery. "Nothing you have to worry about." He headed towards one of the city's storage lockers. Years ago, he had found an object that would've protected the team, if he had ever had cause to use it. When he found out about Raven's heritage, he was grateful that he had found it. Richard knew it would have killed him to use it against her, but he had it to protect his team. After all, the only thing that trumps magick is stronger magick. He knew that Bruce would never approve of him having it, but unlike the dark knight, he never shied away from the occult. Growing up Romany had that effect on people.

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><p>When he arrived, he rolled back the steel door, and moved quickly to disable the security system, the last thing he needed was a fireball lighting up the night sky. Searching through the countless boxes, he soon found what he was looking for. The dagger was plain looking he supposed, if someone overlooked the obsidian blade and the marks etched onto it. Sliding it carefully into his belt, he felt the whisper of power that the weapon promised him, and he steeled himself with it. With this, his quest seemed so much more easily accomplished. Now, he just needed the devil. But he would be considerate when he spoke to him; he was many things if not considerate of people's feelings. The creature would have a choice. He could either give him the information he wanted willingly, or he would tell him as he stood on his black, broken wings and cut his still beating heart from his chest.<p>

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><p>This is simply a test run to see if my reader(s) want(s) this. I have a full story lined up, and if at least one person writes a positive review, or selects 'story alert' I will publish more. In fact, even if you thought it sucked, still send me a review.<p>

Take it Easy, -N


	2. Die For Me

"_Die for me" __Living Dead Girl_ Rob Zombie

Thank you to my, so far, two reviewers; GrimAngel16 and krazieneko. Without further ado; I own nothing but the story plot. Enjoy, -N

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><p>He was grateful that no one was at the tower when he finally got back. All he found was a note stuck to the refrigerator door, 'Another wake, dinners in the fridge, Vic.' Sure enough, there was some chow, but that wasn't what appealed to him. He reached past the half-rotten food and god only knew what else, and pulled a beer from the back. Popping the tab, he remembered how he was the only one who had even started drinking since she was gone.<p>

The others said that it would slow them down, make them sluggish. He had been having at least five drinks a day since she died, and the only thing he noticed was the aftertaste it left in his mouth each morning. He pulled the dagger from his belt then, and fingering it, thought about what he had to do next. It had been over a week since the ceremony, and he knew what needed to be done. With her gone, he would be weaker, that was without a doubt. But, he would still need to be careful, if the thing was able to draw on any amount of strength, he would be gone before he knew what happened.

He made his way slowly to her room. It was the most logical place to call him. It held a piece of her, and by association him, she would be better equipped to summon him. The door was locked, and rightfully so. They had all agreed to leave it as it was as a sort of shrine to Her. No one ever entered her sanctuary, and so it was like she would still be there. As the doors slid open though, he realized just how _gone _she was.

He figured that the room would be dark, barren, and overall, not very comforting. The large bed, light blue walls, and glowing lights showed him that he was wrong. He breathed her scent in deep, pulling it into his chest to savor and remember. While her scent enveloped him, he spotted a small desk, and was surprised at the amount of makeup that sat before its mirror. His gaze soon spotted a beaten violet book placed almost sacredly in its center, the faded gold letters reading, 'Diary'. If it wasn't for the large, overstuffed bookshelves and gothic art, he would have thought that it was Kori's room; that she had finally gotten out of her pink phase. He resisted the urge to read the book, and instead moved over to her bed.

He could make out the beaten steamer trunk she had placed underneath it. He even remembered the conversation they had about the damned thing. When he had found her dragging it towards her door, he helped her. She told him that it was meant to hold things she wanted to forget, but couldn't lose; that it was her 'hopeless' chest. She had seemed especially forlorn that day; she didn't even flinch when he pulled her close for a hug. When she pulled away, she had put back that damn mask of indifference back in place, and with a curt nod, slid it into her room, closing the door.

Now though, he hoped that her hopelessness could lead to salvation. When he dragged it out into the dim light, he could make out several locks that had been placed there. He knew they would have no keys, that she made them to keep people out of the box, but that didn't stop him. He figured they were only two tumblers, ten seconds a lock, if that. When the last hit the ground, he flipped the lid back and smiled in appreciation.

He knew that she came from bad stock, and that her father's influence would draw her to darkness, but this was the mother lode. Wolf teeth, black salt, he raised a glass jar, _dead man's blood_. He opened a small cigar box and lifted one of the candles; he recognized the greasy feel of tallow, _probably human_. "Raven, you have been one_ busy _girl." He had always known she was smart, that she had dabbled before the team was formed, but never realized how much she knew. If Raven had grown up with his family, his grandmother, the Pchuri Daj, would have raised and taught her personally. His eyes fell then on the book. It was plain, and oddly enough, white. But he knew what it held. He remembered the bastard that was stuck in its pages, but what surprised him was that she kept the thing. He smiled though when he found the matches. Lighting one, he felt like laughing as the pages curled and turned black. _Enough, _he dropped the burning book and turned back to the supplies. _You're on a mission Rick, don't screw it up. _

He slid her scarce furniture away from the center of the room. Finished, he took the salt and teeth, taking great care to place a circle of both in the opening, one inside the other. After that, he reached for the blood, and with careful precision, poured his symbol into the center. He didn't worry that it might not be right. He'd never forget its shape from when he first saw it, burning on pale skin. When he was satisfied, he pulled the candles out and surrounded his circle, lighting them. Finished, he was proud at how much he had remembered from his childhood, but then he started thinking about something his grandmother told him. _"Remember Richard, Beng is a stubborn, greedy creature, the only way you will get him to speak with you is to offer him a gift of yourself."_

He didn't even feel the dagger sliding across his arm. With the cut bleeding freely, he knelt near one of the candles, and as his blood hissed in the flame, he started. "Trigon, I call to you. It regards your child." Nothing happened, but he knew that these things took time. That even if he was aware of the call, the demon would come when he was good and ready. Still though, he wasn't ready for the creature to come so quickly. When the room filled with light and the smoke had cleared, he realized that Raven's death really had affected the creature.

He remembered how strong and powerful he was, but the hunched over creature rasping for air was anything but intimidating. A proud stance was now a bent back, and the tall creature with bulging muscles now resembled a broken man. He could even see a pair of twisted feeble wings fluttering on his back, keeping pace with each wheezing cough. "Why have you called me mortal?" He stepped into the circle then, and drew the blade. He watched as the creature's eyes fell on it, and smirked. "Where did you get a blade of the Fallen?" He smashed his boot into his face, and grabbing his hair, jerked his head back, letting him feel the edge of the blade.

"Where is Raven?" The only answer he got was a laugh.

"She is dead, I thought you knew." He made a shallow cut, and he felt the power dance up his arm.

"Watch yourself, the Fallen scream for your blood a little _too_ loudly." He brought the blade closer and tensed his arm. "Where is she? We both know she was only _half _human. I highly doubt that demons can be killed by a drunk doing fifty on a city street. WHERE IS SHE!"

He watched as Trigon seemed to look upon him with almost pity before bowing his head. "What is left of my daughter now resides in the pit, with me."

"How do I get her back?" Again, he raised an eye, and shook his head.

"She is gone, what is with me is not the one you know."

"I don't care, how do I get her back?"

"She is not the one you-," it felt good when he heard the cartilage of the demon's nose break.

"Last chance or you die here. How do I get her back?" His body shook with the force of the creature's laugh.

"That is part of it. My life must end," he felt the creature push himself against the blade, and he jerked him back. "Then she can return, if she is buried where I walked." He didn't hesitate then, dragging the blade across his neck. He thought he heard him sigh as his body hit the floor. But, watching as he shook on the carpet, the blood soaking the carpet in the light of the candles, he felt nothing. Richard thought that he would feel anger at this creature for being so self-absorbed, even at the end. Would feel regret at finally breaking his oath and taking a life. Maybe even self-loathing at calling him here only to kill him. But at the moment, he only felt tired. He hadn't slept in however long.

Eventually though, as the body became still, he was mesmerized as he sunk into the floor. Everything, the rings, the candles, the tar-like blood, sunk into the carpet until it was like it was never there. He was even willing to bet that should be tear up the padding, the wood underneath would be untouched. With almost reverent care, he packed the remaining things away, and taking another moment to savor her scent, he wandered out of her room and again sealed it.

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><p>Wandering back to his room, he thought about what Trigon had said, 'What is with me is not the one you know.' It didn't matter. True, she was not very sociable when they first met, but he would be willing to work with her again. After slamming the door, he went to his closet and pulled out a bottle. He didn't flinch at swallowing the whiskey; in fact, the burning sensation helped him focus. He would be getting her back, tonight if possible. His eyes then fell on the photograph on his desk.<p>

She had never even known about it, he was sure of it. Back with they were still the 'Teen' Titans; he had spent hours watching her. If she knew, it was obvious that she didn't care. Eventually though, he got what he was looking for. She was facing the sun as it set, the colors dancing across her skin. He wanted to be able to look on the image for all time. It was quick; she didn't even notice when the flash went off. She just kept staring at the sun, like it was the first time she had ever seen it set. He turned to face his window, and saw that the sun was almost down. He wanted to move now, so he could have her back, but that wasn't going to happen. He knew what people would think if they saw what he was trying to do. While he was sure he could stop them, the last thing he wanted tonight was to bring down his own team.

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><p>They didn't stop him when he left. They told me that it would be okay, that they would be willing to come if he needed company. When he left the tower, dressed in black, holding lilies, they only looked upon him with pity and sadness. <em>Let them think what they want. <em>He was worried that Vic would say something about him taking his truck instead of his motorcycle, but the guy was silent. When he was out of sight, he went to the nearest hardware store, and got what he needed. He wasn't sure how much work would be needed, but the shovel and pick seemed like they would be enough.

When he arrived, he marched straight to where she lay. He didn't know what to expect, but was grateful that he was alone. The doors locks spun, and he entered where she was kept. He started then. Like he expected, he found the motion sensor that was connected to the lid. He understood why it was there. Just because no one did anything at her funeral, didn't mean they _wouldn't_ try something later. He wasn't worried about an enemy, it was almost an unspoken rule that a person's final rest was meant to be undisturbed. It was the groupies and fans, people who either wanted a piece of her, either in life or death that they were worried about.

Quickly, it was bypassed, and the lid slid to the floor with a dull thud. She seemed the same as she did days ago. Pale skin that was flawless as the marble surrounding her, perfect hair, an almost angelic look on her face. He was almost afraid of what would happen when he touched her; that she would be destroyed and be gone forever. But as he eased his arms beneath her, nothing happened; he just felt the cold weight against his skin. Raising her out of the grave, he smiled as her body turned into him. _I've always wanted to do this. _With care, he wrapped her shroud around her, and after placing her on the ground turned to the empty space that held her. The others would come eventually, the need to grieve would be too strong, and when they saw what had happened, they'd start looking.

With care, he pushed it back into place, and reset the sensor. Finished, he took his bundle, and after hearing the locks spin shut, made his way to the truck. He had to move quickly, before he lost his nerve. He almost regretted putting her in the back, underneath the cover. He wanted her beside him, to remind him why he was doing this, but the last thing he needed was a cop pulling up beside him and seeing her. He pulled away slowly then, turning to where he needed to go. It was rather funny though, he thought. _She would live in the place she was destroyed._

* * *

><p>It didn't surprise him that they never rebuilt the place. Truth be told, he didn't even know what it was. All he knew was that she would come back here, be with him because of this cursed place. The stones crumbled under his tires as he pulled inside its walls. The stark grey and white stood out against his headlights. Eventually, he got to the center. He climbed out and looked at the lone standing column with disgust. He'd never forget the day she rose up there and gave her life to save them. Shaking the thought from his head, he turned to the truck, and pulled out the tools, and returned to her. He placed her far enough from him to protect her, but not so far as to lose her. He had come too close to lose now.<p>

He figured the pick would be the best to start with. When he swung, the ground didn't even crack, and his hands shook with the force. Again, he swung, but this time the point buried itself. With a wrench, he pulled it free, and the smell of sulfur surrounded him. He knew then that this was the perfect place. Trigon's presence was strong; it wouldn't take much for her to come back. He would get her back, one way or another. He just kept swinging then, and after what seemed like hours, he stopped and saw the broken earth. Kicking a chunk of stone into the light, he saw why it was so hard.

He lifted what he thought was a rock from the ground and realized that it was bone. The area was covered by it. He figured disgust would fill him then, wanting to bury her around so much death, but all he felt was gratitude. Now that they were cleared, his job would be much easier. When he started to dig, the stench of sulfur grew stronger. He kept going though, as his eyes watered and his throat burned, he kept digging. Eventually, he realized he couldn't see her. His arms burned and his clothes were soaked.

Climbing from the hole, he made his way to her. She was still there, and again he pulled her close. With care, he uncovered her face, and did what he dreamed. He kissed her. She felt cold and soft, something that he figured would be the same, even if she didn't have a pulse. "Soon Raven, soon." He almost regretted covering her again, but he knew it would be easier that was. He lowered her back down, and with a heavy heart started to cover her. To him, this was the hardest of all.

When the last pile was thrown, he waited. He didn't know what to expect, but he figured it would be instantaneous. Instead, nothing happened. "You bastard," he should have expected it. Trigon was a devil, they can lie; why did he expect him to tell the truth, even when facing death. Now, she was gone, and buried in some godforsaken place. If he had the strength, he would have pulled her out, and taken her back to where she belonged.

* * *

><p>He stopped at a liquor store on his way back. Now that she really was gone, he didn't care anymore. He wasn't even paying attention to what he bought. When he arrived back home, he wasn't surprised that the others were asleep, according to the clock, it was a little after midnight. He walked slowly to his room, and of course had to pass hers. Maybe he could remember her there? Just spend time remembering, it wouldn't be so bad then. He didn't even bother to lock his door; he just went to his desk and pulled out a pack of cards and a bottle. He gagged on the first swallow, and realized that he had gotten tequila. With a shrug, he took another swallow and shuffled. Reaching back into the bag, he pulled out what he realized was a carton, and after freeing a pack, little a smoke and started to play.<p>

When the first bottle and two packs were gone, he reached for another bottle, a fresh pack, and kept going. He wasn't even thinking about what would happen tomorrow. He figured, screw it. The city could take care of itself for a while, and he hadn't had a chance yet to wallow in his grief. He had failed and now she really was gone.

When the second bottle was gone, and he was on his last pack, he thought about what he had done. He had broken into her crypt and taken her. He had to make things right. He couldn't leave her there. He could smell the sulfur then, and realized that the stink of that cursed earth had probably gotten into his skin. That was when he saw the dirt covered hand on his shoulder. "I'm back Rick."

* * *

><p>I thought this would be a good place to end. Like I said, I have a plan with this, and I guess you could say that this is the end of the "first act". Hope you enjoyed it, I know I did. Take it Easy, -N.<p> 


	3. Scary Sounds

"_Scary Sounds_" _Living Dead Girl; Rob Zombie_

Glad to hear that people are enjoying this. Just a warning, the pace and content are going to start to pick up, so let's get started. Enjoy, -N.

* * *

><p>"Rick, say something. You look like you've seen a ghost." He looked to the hand on his shoulder, up the length of pale skin, and to her face. <em>Raven <em>he didn't bother stopping what he was sure was an insane sounding giggle_. I did it. _Then, he saw something that didn't belong. She was smiling. _No, correction; grinning. _Her lips were pulled back, and he could see the pale teeth. It was beautiful, and perfect, like she always was, but it was a grin. Raven never grinned. Rick figured it out then, his eyes traveling from the two bottles on the table, to the buds sitting the ashtray, and finally, the empty packs on the floor.

"You're not here." He jumped slightly when she laughed. It sounded sore, and rarely used, but it was still a laugh.

"Well Rick, if I'm not here, than what am I?" He lifted one of the bottles and shook his head at the seventy proof label.

"You, dear Raven, are my brain drowning in a combination of grain alcohol and nicotine, giving me a dream of what I wish _would_ have happened. I gotta say though," looking away from her smile, he took in her form. Rick, on what he figured was a drunken whim, finally took the time to notice just how much he enjoyed the dress they had buried her in; short enough to show off creamy white thighs, cut low enough on top to give people a view of smooth bare shoulders; he looked down at her feet, and smirked when he saw the Shiekh Rachel heels that Kori bought were caked with dirt. All in all, she looked classy and sexy, but just managed to stay out of the realm of being slutty. His eyes went back to her face and that smile_. Sure, she might be dead, but_. "You look damn good for a dead girl." He watched as her grin changed to a frown, and she pulled the bottle away from him.

"I am back _Richard_; you're just too drunk to appreciate that." She just shook her head at his cackle.

"Well, you're right about one thing," he reached for the last smoke, and after lighting it, took a long drag. "I am drunk off my ass." He tried to stand then, and realized then that the room had started to spin. He didn't even blink as the floor grew closer to him, but he did flinch when he stopped mid-air, and his stomach groaned as the sudden halt. He raised his eyes, and saw her shaking with silent laughter, her fist glowing black. "Let me finish falling before I puke." Instead, he was thrust back onto his feet. She ducked then under his arm, and propped him against her. As a war waged within him between his stomach and his pride, he didn't even notice her mumbling something until the queasiness faded.

"You owe me, but I left you the hangover to deal with in the morning." He tried walking, but she just half pulled/ half dragged him to his bed. When he hit the mattress, and felt her hands on his belt, he laughed.

"Just can't wait huh?"

"If I thought you were sober enough to even get it _up_, we'd be on your table right now." He raised an eyebrow at her statement, but stayed silent. He could feel her frustration at the belt growing, and tried to take over. Instead, she shoved his hands away and with a muttered, "Fuck this," he felt the familiar chill of her magic cover him, right before realizing he was in nothing but his boxers.

"No foreplay?" He realized that she was leaning over him then, and he could see that same gaze from two weeks before in her eyes.

"You are so lucky you're cute," he felt her hand cup him and he suppressed a shudder. "And blessed with a body that better _not _quit, you know that right?" He didn't say anything; he just wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He felt her shudder at his warmth, and try to get closer. This dream he could deal with, at least she wasn't crying about dying, or worse, blaming him for it. She felt real, but he knew that didn't mean anything. "Rick, go to sleep, I'll be here in the morning." He squeezed her when she said what he was wondering. It didn't matter that she might have read his mind, but she had promised, and that hurt more than the other dreams did. As he closed his eyes, he prayed to every God and Devil he had ever known, that she would still be with him when he woke.

* * *

><p>It was almost noon when Rick actually had the desire to open his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the lack of nausea he usually felt after a bender, along with the tightness in his chest that came from chain smoking. He tried lifting his head, and let it fall back down when the headache cranked up the pain a few notches. He recognized the dry mouth, and if he had the urge to pinch his skin, was sure it would take it seconds to settle flat again. In other words, "I need water." Forcing himself into a sitting position, he tried to rise, and found that one of his arms was pinned. Normally, he would have asked, 'why am I stuck?', but dehydration does funny things to a person's thought process. He gave another pull, and froze when he heard the quiet moan.<p>

Slowly, the bleariness in his eyes cleared, and he saw that she was still there. Covered in dirt and wrapped around his arm, Raven, his Goddess, was asleep, and seemed to be latched onto him for dear life. "Raven?"

"Go back to sleep," she gave a small tug, and he found himself being pulled back down. Willingly, he fell back into the mattress and without thinking, wrapped his free arm around her. She felt the same as before, soft and cool, but he could still smell the faint stench of dirt and sulfur on her skin.

"You came back?" She didn't open her eyes, but her mouth quirked up in the condescending smile that she frequently gave Gar.

"Yep," he looked around then, and was surprised that his room wasn't exploding from the emotions he could feel pouring off her. "Before you ask," he looked back to her, and found those eyes glued to his face. "Now that Trigon is dead, he has no influence over me, and I am free to be me." He wasn't sure what to think at that statement, but he knew he couldn't as her mouth latched onto his.

He remembered the first time they met, how she was a quiet girl who preferred her privacy, the type of person you had to literally throw her into situations for her to experience something new. As he felt her tongue dance inside his mouth, he realized that this was not the same person. As he tasted her, there was nothing he could think of to remotely describe it. It was something that was just uniquely and wholly Raven. He could feel the pain in his body receding as she forced herself onto him. He didn't fight, this was a dream come true, and he wasn't about to stop it. As he gained the sense to start exploring the body before him, he heard the knock at the door. "Rick, you awake?"

She began to grind against him, and he had to fight the urge to moan. She was here, and it seemed like she wanted him _almost _as badly as he wanted her. He ignored the door, and smiled against her mouth when he felt her hands dip into his waistband. "Nightwing?" The voice was more urgent this time.

She pulled back then, and taking her time, slid off him and onto the bed, pointing to the door. "I'm not here."

"But what about-," she silenced him with a finger and a smile.

"We'll tell them later, just not now." Growling, he rose and stomped to the door.

* * *

><p>Victor Stone wasn't sure what to expect this morning. He was the first to wake up that morning, which surprised him, but he knew that Rick had gone to visit Raven again last night. He was upset though when he found the receipt near the door; One 750 milliliter bottle of Jose Quevero Gold, a one liter bottle of Kettle One Vodka, and a carton of Marlboro Reds. He knew that Rick was taking her death hard, hell, they all were, but he didn't realize how bad it was until he saw that the guy had bought smokes. He drank rarely, and it was always worse when he smoked.<p>

He expected to see a guy who was half-dead from an all-night bender open the door, not someone who looked like he was half crazed and ready to explode. "What is it!"

"Just making sure everything was okay." He could smell the smoke on his skin and the stench of hard liquor on his breath. He was impressed that Rick was even standing, much less able to form a competent sentence.

"I'm fine," he saw the ghost of a grin form on his face, and he hoped that it was true, maybe he had finally started to get past what had happened.

"'Kay, I just wanted to let you know that chow is on the table if you want it." He couldn't help himself but lean into the room, and saw that, sure enough, empty packs and bottles littered the floor. "I won't tell the others, but you might want to take a shower, try to get rid of the stink huh."

He turned back to the room, and facing the door, the grin finally appeared and Vic relaxed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'll be down in a little bit." When the door slid shut, he exhaled deeply. _It's gonna be okay, _he turned to the room across the hall, and resisted the urge to knock. _Raven, we'll be okay, just know that we miss you._

* * *

><p>When Vic was gone, he turned back, and saw her smiling. He could get used to seeing that in the morning, Raven with a grin and bed head, from being in <em>his <em>bed. "Well, what should we do now?"

She rose, and started to play with the top of the dress she still wore. "I need a shower," he watched as she scrunched up her nose, and had to resist the urge to smile at her. "And so do you." She lifted her hand, and pointed to the bathroom. "March."

With a salute, he obeyed, starting to pull down his shorts when he turned to look at her. "Care to join me?"

He watched as Raven strutted, actually strutted up to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Tonight, I promise. But, I can barely stand touching you right now." She gave him a quick peck, and releasing him, pushed him into the room, and slammed the door shut. "I want you to spend time with the others today. Don't worry about me," if the door hadn't been closed, he would have seen those amethyst eyes flash red. "I'll keep busy until you come back."

After he had finished, he watched her enter the shower, and with a finger pointed towards his door, wordlessly told him to leave. Dressing, he felt more human when he pulled his uniform on. She was back, and life would be good again. Absently, he stroked the bird on his chest, looking to the bathroom door. _Tonight can't come fast enough. _

* * *

><p>When he entered the common room, he wasn't surprised to see the others waiting for him. He knew he was acting the recluse, and he had to change that. With a wave, he entered the kitchen, and smiled at the food set out before him. He tore into it, realizing that, while alcohol is made from sugar, corn, and barley, it wasn't enough to truly function on. Finished, he entered the living area, and ignoring the three pairs of eyes on him, pulled the dissected paper towards him, and started to read. "All right dude, enough," he half expected it, but was still annoyed when the resident shape shifter tore the paper out of his hands.<p>

"What can I do for you Garfield?" He kept the question pleasant, but used the guy's full name, letting him know that he was bothered by how he was acting.

"Look, we all miss Raven, but-"; he held a hand up, silencing him. He knew that this little intervention was a long time coming and just wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible, like pulling off a Band-Aid.

"You're right. Guys," he looked to them, and saw concern in the faces. "I have been an ass lately, and I'm sorry. It's just; it bothered me that she left us like that. But, I think visiting her did help. Last night," he saw their eyes go to the kitchen, and he saw them looking at the receipt he had dropped onto the table. "Last night I drank myself into a stupor, and now, I'm done moping around. I won't forget her, and I don't expect any of you to either." They all nodded their heads in unison. "But we have to move on, Raven is gone, and there is nothing we can do about it."

He could hear her laughter in his head at his speech, but he had promised her that they would tell them later, and he wanted her by his side when they did. _They'll forgive this lie when they see she's back._ Vic stood then, and smiling, turned, heading towards the garage. "Good, now that that's over with, I got crap to get done." He was almost done, when the sirens started to scream. Rick didn't even think, he just walked to a computer out of habit, and after silencing the noise, growled at the police reports. "What is it Rick?

"Slade."

* * *

><p>She watched the others race to whatever was attacking the city from Rick's window. She felt the urge to join them, but only to make sure he was safe. He had finally killed the bastard that kept her in line, and now, she was free to do what she wanted. He was what she wanted. Rick had done things for her that no one else would have, and he asked for nothing in return. After all the work she had done for the team and the city, she deserved a little happiness, she deserved him, in fact, she would say that she had earned him, and nothing would take him away.<p>

Wandering around his room, she smirked when she found his movie stash, opening laughing at the lone porno in the pile. "'Wild Goth Girls 5,' huh Rick?" Throwing the disc away, she went to his dresser and frowned at the paper clippings that sat near the mirror.

'Local Teen Kill in Drunken Driving Accident.' Below it was a photo of her, dead on the pavement, with the others around her. She didn't fight the anger that filled her then. It was that man, Franklin Jones' fault that she had missed so much time with Rick, the time she could have spent with him, laughing, smiling, learning about him and feeling his touch. There was a newer article next to it, stating that Jones, who had been denied bail, was recently placed on suicide watch in the county jail, awaiting his arraignment. She smiled then, allowing herself to be swallowed in her power. _Perfect._

* * *

><p>Franklin Jones was a successful small businessman, a father of three, a loving husband, and now, a murderer. He was pacing his cell, like he had been for the past five hours since they put him in there. He just kept replaying the scene over and over in his mind. The day was over, and he managed to secure a deal that would allow him to not only give all his employees a raise, but even hire more. He was so tense from the meeting that he had needed a drink. Tequila sunrise, nothing too strong, just something to take the edge off; he had only meant to have one, but that had turned into six.<p>

Driving home, he didn't even remember seeing her, just rolling out of his car, and seeing a woman laying on the ground, her friends around her screaming for help. He wasn't going to fight the charges; he had taken a life, and now had to pay the price. It bothered him though, that he would have to live with it for the rest of his life. Asking how he would do that out loud had gotten him moved in here. "Wherever you are Miss," he spoke to the room, and its growing shadows. "Please forgive me."

He saw her then, step out of the darkness. She looked just like the photos the police had shown him, bloody, her skull collapsed and sitting at an odd angle on her neck, wide eyes that were red with broken vessels. The clothes she wore torn and frayed, skin that was shredded and covered with gravel. "How could you kill me?" He felt the tears start to form as she asked what he had been thinking. "I did nothing to you, and you killed me." She raised her hand and wiped her eyes, something his youngest daughter, Gwen, would do when her tears would fall.

"I didn't mean to." She kept getting closer, and he could swear he could smell the blood on her skin.

"You killed me," again, that hollow, terrifying statement crept out of her throat. "Why couldn't it be you instead of me? I was in love, and he loved me, and you took me away from him."

He didn't fight the tears that fell from his eyes. "What can I do?"

"There is nothing you can do. I am dead, and you can't change that. Why couldn't you have died instead of me?"

"I want to." He watched her freeze at his statement, but didn't care. He had killed this child in front of him, and he wished every second since he found out, that it was him they had taken to the morgue.

"Then why don't you?" He watched her step back into the shadows, and he knew that the ghost was gone.

_Then why don't you? _He looked at the new clothes they had given him, and realized they were made from paper; they would never hold his weight. He looked to his wrists, and wished he had a knife, that he could split his arms open, and die; maybe give that girl's friends and family some since of justice. _Then why don't you? _He knew then what he had to do. The pain would be incredible, he knew, but it was the least that he deserved. "I'm sorry," he didn't hesitate when he brought his wrist to his teeth.

* * *

><p>Nightwing was hurting, and he didn't know how much longer he could last. The guy had been ready for them when they had arrived. He didn't have any long drawn out monologue prepared. No goading words before they started. He just bull-rushed them, and brought down Victor before they knew what had happened.<p>

Turning to the metal man, he knew that even though he was powered down, his emergency systems would protect his organs for two hours. _Now down to fifty five minutes. _He could see that Gar wasn't doing much better. After Victor, he was the second brought down. Slade just kept dancing around him, until the shape shifter ran into Kori's line of fire, and he was down and out, but thankfully still breathing. Kori though, she was probably hurting the most after him. After she panicked from dropping Gar, she got a back hand that slammed her into a building. She had tried to get back up, but a kick to the side of her head knocked her down.

That left him, nursing what he was sure was at least two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and hopefully, just a strained knee; the most annoying was the laceration somewhere near his scalp, one eye was useless due to the blood that kept flowing. "I was wondering Richard," he was on his knees while Slade was towering over him. "If you want to just end this. My offer still stands." He wasn't surprised when the hand came down, offering to help him stand. He shoved it away, and after using his staff to pull himself up, raised it in defense.

"Never," he couldn't block the blow to his right shoulder, and felt his clavicle shatter.

"A pity," he was on his back then, and felt a boot against his neck. "You know Richard; I have never really understood you until now. Why you kept fighting even when you were beaten. But now I understand. It was because of her." The foot pressed down, and he raised the one arm that was still working, trying to pry it away. "She was the one who made your team, made you strong, and now that she's gone, you're nothing." He was relieved as the boot rocked back; only to flinch as the toe crushed his fingers. "You can still end this, join me. Together, we can purge this city, and make it ours. I'll let you build temples, statues, monuments to your bird, just yield."

He wasn't sure how he did it, but the next thing he knew, Slade was getting up from the ground, and he was again leaning heavily on his staff. "Just walk away, I won't yield to you, and I'll never join." He looked to his team, and again focused on Victor, _37 minutes remaining. _"The sooner you get that through your skull, the better off we'll all be. So either kill me now, or leave and let me see to my people." He had dropped his staff, and was somehow holding himself up on one leg, waiting. His answer was only a shaken head, and a retreating figure.

When he was sure that Slade was gone, he limped to Victor, and panicked when he saw that the time had fallen to 15 minutes. It was simple enough to tap into his backup power system, and get the guy running again. Around that time, he noticed Kori was moving around, and so was Gar. They had gotten lucky, and it looked like yet again, he was the one hurting the most. He could feel Victor's eyes on him, and he turned presenting the dislocated shoulder. After the jerk, he was pushed onto the ground, and the same was done with his knee. He wasn't too proud to admit he screamed. With a grunt, he rose and limped to their car. "Let's go home."

* * *

><p>The others had wanted him to go to the med wing. They said that he needed to start treatment, but he had managed to convince them into waiting until morning. As he limped up the stairs, he could feel the fluid building in his knee, but that didn't matter, all that matters was the time. The clock read ten pm, and that meant it was 'tonight'. Eventually, he made it, and could feel her in the room, and what he thought might have been anger. Sure, it was late, but she would understand, right?<p>

When the door whispered shut, he heard the locks spin with a hiss, and turned, _I'm a dead man. _He could see the candles that were still burning, and could also see her dress laying on the floor in the center of the room. "I thought that being Batman's protégé would have understood the idea of toni-." He could see her sitting on the bed, waiting for him. Those eyes that were shrunk with anger went wide with shock when she saw him. "What happened?"

He pulled his shirt off, and let it fall to the floor with a dull thud. Still limping, he sat down, and felt her arms come around his back. "Slade," he thought he heard a growl, but then felt the tingle of her power across his skin. "No," he pulled away from her, taking her hands in his. "Don't, otherwise they'll know." Again, she smiled, and it just didn't look right. But he didn't care; all that mattered was that she was smiling for him.

"Then let me take the pain," she eased him back, and she straddled his hips. "At least, for a while." He didn't protest when she dragged his pants down, and threw them to join the rest on the floor. Rick just closed his eyes when he felt those soft lips on the cut above his eyes, a cool tongue touching his skin. Those soft hands on his chest, making the dull ache fade to nothing. He felt her teeth grazing his skin, and his whimper of pain was hushed away.

When he felt her hands go to his knees, she rose and took him in. If he wasn't in such a daze, he would have held her, but instead she rocked slowly, drawing out the time, and forcing him to gasp in pain and pleasure. _Rick, _he opened his eyes, and saw hers looking into him, almost burning with lust. _You are mine, understand? _He could only nod as her pace increased. _Mine alone, no one else's. I know about Argent,_ she squeezed then, and smiled at his groan. _I remember _hearing_ your one-night stand with Jinx, _the pace became faster and the pressure greater. _But they are gone now, understand? _

He had found the strength to lift his arms then, and managed to take her hips, increasing her pace. She lifted her hands and cupped herself. He watched, mesmerized as she dragged a single nail over her chest, bleeding lightly. Taking his head, she lifted him to the cut, and on instinct, he tasted her. The pain was dead then, he didn't know how, but it was gone, and he needed more of what she offered. Wrapping his arms around her, he anchored himself, drinking deeper to the sound of her laugh. "Enough Richard," She eased him back down, and sped up.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could last. "Raven, please," again she laughed, and continued the torture. He didn't care then, he had to finish, and like an animal, he pulled her underneath, and growled at her moans.

When the climax overtook them both, he heard her scream in his mind, and saw those eyes go red, but he didn't care, she was his now, body and soul. He held her close, and again she squeezed, "I was right." He couldn't find the strength to speak; he just rolled over and pulled her on top of him. Again, she gave him that smile and stroked his chest. "You could probably go a few more rounds, but," she pressed her lips to his eyes, and Rick found himself swallowed by sleep. "You need your rest, and I," those eyes glowed red, and she climbed down from him, wrapping herself in white. "I have business to attend."

* * *

><p>Slade Wilson was, to say the least, impressed by what had happened tonight. He remembered how broken Richard was at the funeral, when he had seen him mourning the loss of the girl. He had hoped that his recruitment would have gone easier then. That with her gone, he would have willingly gone to his side, in hopes that maybe he could have brought her back with his help. But Richard had recovered, and now he would have to work to get him back again. He brought up the video of the fight and watched the hopelessness in the boy's eyes as his friends fell. <em>Maybe if they were gone, he would come? <em>Surely with nothing left, the fight would be over and his apprentice would come home.

When his chambers were plunged into darkness, he didn't panic, he prepared. Someone was foolish enough to invade his fortress, and now they would pay the price. He didn't rise from his throne, didn't move a muscle, he was waiting for them to come, and then he would strike. He was unprepared though, when he flew into the wall.

He tried to move, but couldn't, and was slammed against the video monitors. He thought that would be it, being thrown around the room like a rag doll, until he was forced to the floor on his back, and he heard laughter. Slowly, a single light started to glow, and he saw her. "Raven, it appears that my sources about your death were, mistaken." She was near then, and he knew this wasn't the same girl who had died. True, it looked at her, moved like her, had her powers, and sounded like her, but the thing with the crazed grin and glowing red eyes was definitely not Raven.

"You tried to kill my lover today," he quirked an eyebrow, but remained silent. Then it dawned upon him, and he remembered all his surveillance; the looks of longing when he courted others, the quiet tears she shed when he took them to his room, the whispered moans of passion when she dreamed of him.

"Strange, I thought Richard would have drawn the line at necrophilia." She was on him then, and he could smell the scent of sweat and sex on its skin.

"I would be more respectful if I were you." He watched as her nails raked his arm, drawing blood. "You damaged my toy, almost destroyed it, and I won't let that happen. I owe him for freeing me, and I plan on keeping him with me for eternity, in one piece and fully functional." It tilted its head, and he could feel it probing his mind. "I am going to destroy you, I hope you know that. Your pain will be legendary, your screams music to my ears, but before I get started, I want to do something I've only dreamed of." She yanked his mask away, and almost lovingly stroked his remaining eye. "I am going to take your other eye, the one your wife missed when she took the first." He didn't flinch as the point of her nail rested against his cornea. "Any last words?"

As he felt her pierce his flesh, and the world went dark, me could only mutter one thing. "Richard, what have you done?"

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><p>Chapter three is done, hope everyone enjoyed. Reviews are always appreciated.<p>

Take it Easy,

-N


	4. So Beautiful, They'll Make you Kill

"So Beautiful, They Make You Kill" Living_ Dead Girl. Rob Zombie_

Thanks for the reviews, and in response to that question, I will be answering it in this chapter. Enjoy, -N.

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><p>He couldn't remember the last time he had ever suffered so greatly. Felt something beyond annoyance or disappointment. Sure, when his child was killed by the people who had saved his life, he had felt something. When his training had him react before he thought, and he saw the person he loved most lying in a pool of their own blood, he did feel. But, in his sixty some odd years of life, this truly was pain.<p>

He knew that his legs were gone, the grunts and tearing sounds he heard echoing from below his waist proved that. He could only guess at what it had torn from his chest. It did make him scream though when he felt what he was sure was its teeth on what he thought were his intestines; that really was something he had never experienced before. He knew he didn't have much time left. His mind was becoming sluggish and he had to warn people of what was now loose on the world. True, he was evil incarnate. He was a mercenary, a killer, a terrorist, and most recently was the champion to a true entity of evil, but that didn't mean that he didn't want people to have a fighting chance.

By feel, he was able to find the remote on his wrist and call one of his few remaining drones to his side. Again, it was luck when he heard the faint beep of the recorder from the machine start. When he tried to speak, he realized then that it hadn't just pried his jaw open, it had dislocated it. Again, the machine was aware of what needed to be done and rectified the situation. He relished the sensation, the jarring movement shaking him from his fog, and prayed that it had left enough of his tongue for him to be understood. He only gave orders, no gloating, no explaining, and no pity. He just said what needed to be said, and finishing, heard the faint ding signaling that the recording had been captured. Now though, this dying declaration had to be sent to them, and he knew who would, no, who _must_ get it.

It wouldn't go to _him_; he knew the boy was too far gone to believe anything except what he wanted to. It would go to the other. True, he wouldn't have any reason to believe what he had to say, but the man _would_ listen, and hopefully take action; so long as his emotions didn't get in the way. His decision made, he sent the drone to the main console. The machine would move quickly and send it properly, not along their main audio channel, but simply as an email, something that could be viewed in private. It would destroy the building then, and set fire to the rubble. "So, this is how it ends?" He heard the crashes and smelled the smoke. As the heat neared him, he stopped fighting the inevitable and drifted off. After all the evil he had spread, Slade Wilson, Deathstroke, was finally dead.

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><p>The sound of knocking brought him awake. Rick wasn't sure of the time, but he did know that his body wasn't responding to him. He sat up, and his chest burned with pain, raising an arm to the bruises, he felt the twang of pain in his shoulder, and didn't even have to check to know that his knee was swollen stiff. He fell back down, and raising a hand, saw the dark bruises on his fingers, and felt the scab on his face, cringing as it tore open. <em>Maybe I should have taken her offer.<em>

He heard her moan, and turning his head saw the angel. She looked perfect, something he had always dreamed of seeing. Raven, his Goddess, asleep by his side, her scent filling the room, it was perfect, except for his blood covering that perfect form. When he started to move, those eyes snapped open, and again she smiled. He knew then that he would do anything to keep her safe, do anything she asked of him, after all, she was his, and anything she wanted wouldn't be too much. "Morning," he grimaced at the pain of speaking. He knew then the damage wasn't just surface. He was sure it wasn't permanent, but he had enough injuries of this kind to know it would be a while before he didn't speak with a growl.

"How are you feeling?" She had risen and closed the shades. For once, he was grateful to be out of the light. In darkness, he could hide the pain, his flaws. She wouldn't see how weak he was. The knocking started again, and he watched her fade into the shadows, becoming something darker. They wouldn't see her, but he knew where she was, it was almost comforting.

"It's open," the door swung forward and he could see the others standing there, looking concerned.

"Rick, time to get up," she looked like she hadn't slept all night. He felt pity for her, that she would worry for him, but they all knew he had taken worse and lived, why would that change now?

"I would," again he tried to rise and failed. "Spirit's will is there, but the rest of me…" Victor was by his side instantly, and as if he were a child, carried him to the wheelchair they had brought with them. "Thank you."

"No prob man," he noticed then that they were heading to the main room, not the med wing.

"Vic, something I should know?"

"Cops are here, they said something happened yesterday, wanted to talk to you about it." He nodded, and soon they were there. He recognized the chief easily enough. The man had worked with Gordon in Gotham for almost ten years before getting the job in Jump. Something was wrong though, since he had arrived, Rick had always seen him with a smile on his face, now though, it was a thin line.

"Tyler, is something wrong?" Again, he scanned the room, and looked pointedly at the others, then back at him.

"Can we talk alone?" He gave him a nod and the others filed out. When they were gone, Tyler was on his knees in front of him, like he was trying to see through his mask. "Franklin Jones died yesterday," he resisted the urge to grin and let the man continue. "The orderlies could hear him crying in the isolation cell, and he kept rambling that he was sorry. Then it was quiet except for the sound of, in their words, 'wet ripping'. When they opened the door, they found that he had opened his wrists. With his teeth."

He was shocked to say the least, but still, the man had deserved to suffer. The guy could have called for a cab, or simply slept it off in his office, but no, he had tried to drive home and killed her in the process. He was glad the man had died and hoped that he burned for it. In his mind, Rick felt that the guy had chickened out instead of taking his punishment like a man. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I thought you should know," he could see a shadow moving along the wall where none should have been. In his mind, he could feel her pleasure at the man's words mingling with his own. _Raven, go back to our room, I'll fill you in on the details there. _

When he watched the shadow fade, he found Tyler's eyes again on his face. "I'm sorry Chief, you were saying."

"They said that the pain had to be excruciating, and that he suffered greatly. I just thought you should know. I saw how you were that night kid. I could tell that she meant more to you than the others knew, didn't she?" He nodded. "You're probably wondering why I'm telling you this?" he dropped his voice to a whisper. "It's so you can start to heal. If she meant as much to you that mine does, than it probably feels good to know that the bastard suffered before he finally died, doesn't it?" Again, he nodded, and Tyler raised his voice. "Like I said, I just thought you should know," he felt his eyes on him again, this time, his wounds. "Get some rest kid, you look like hell."

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><p>"You guys can come in now."<p>

When Tyler had left, he knew that the others were pacing the door. They practically ran in, and he let them hammer his with questions. He filled them in then, but left out the gory details. All that mattered to him was that Raven was alive and her killer, Franklin Jones, was dead. Finishing, he saw their faces. Kori and Gar, they had paled, but nodded and drifted over to the couch, most likely to wallow in each other's grief. Vic though, his face was blank, but Rick knew he was pleased. After all, Raven was like the little sister he always wanted, but never had.

"Okay, enough of this shit," he grabbed the handles on the chair and turned him out of the room. This time he knew they were on their way to the medical wing. "Let's get you patched up." When the needle slid into his skin, he groaned as he felt the drugs pour into his veins. Again, he was lifted like a child onto the table and didn't protest. "You've got a lot of fluid around your knee. Hold still, I need to drain it," he winced when the tourniquet wrapped around his leg, and at the sharp sting, but soon, the throbbing burn faded to a dull ache.

He winced at the pain in his hips when the lead apron touched his skin. But knew that he was grateful, he was still holding out some small hope for children. Eight dull whines later, he was eased into a sitting position. "Five broken ribs, a busted clavicle, and it looks like you bruised your larynx," he heard the mutter, and didn't resist the arm sling, he welcomed it. "Rick, you've got three choices for your ribs. One, I can just leave it and you can take it easy, but we both know that will never happen. Two, I can force you into a compression vest that will restrict your chest movements. Or three, my personal favorite, I wrap you in plaster and you can't do squat until you're healed. Your choice."

"Two," Vic already had the garment in his hand and was forcing it over his head. He forced down his scream when the fabric started to squeeze his chest, and tried to breathe normally. "Thanks."

"Dude, no problem. But I want you to know I heard everything." He tapped the side of his head. "Half-machine, remember? But I really hope you aren't glad a man took his own life. Don't cross that line okay?"

They rarely disagreed on certain topics, and this would always be one of them. The only thing that would have made the news better was if he could have seen it. His eyes fell to the line and the pink fluid pouring out. "How much longer is this going to take? I'm really tired."

"A few more minutes, but I may need to drain it again." Rick stayed quiet, and so did he. Victor noticed the scratches and bite marks on his chest and back. He also saw the blood around his lips. Those weren't parting gifts from Slade, he knew that much, but he wouldn't push it. Rick would tell them who was in his bed last night when he was ready.

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><p>She was waiting when he was wheeled back into the room. The others left him alone, and he was tempted to just sleep, but he said they would talk, so… "What do you want to know?"<p>

"Did he suffer?" If the room wasn't in darkness, Rick would have seen the anticipation in her eyes, but only nodded and he saw the brief flash of red. Before bringing her back, it would have bothered him. But Trigon was dead now, if this was how she showed emotion, he could get used to it. He felt the bed shift then, and smiled when he felt her lay gently on top of him. He expected to hurt, but it seemed like, last night, she was again taking his pain. _She really does care._

_Yes I do, _his eyes widened, and he laughed. _Just rest, I want you to heal and be well. I am expecting _many _repeat performances like last night. _He nodded, and wrapped his uninjured arm around her, determined to never let her go.

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><p>Gar was many things, and he felt that they were all good. Since they had all grown, he had matured and he knew the others were grateful for it. In fact, they had even started to trust him more. His biggest reward though, was free reign in Vic's room. The guy always had the fastest computers, and the best games, so it wasn't odd that he would kill a few hours in there. When he found the computer, he was surprised that Vic was still logged in. Normally, the guy either locked the computer screen or logged off.<p>

He didn't want to look, but the old him was egging him on. _Come on man, one little peek won't hurt anything._ He tried to fight the urge, but it was pointless. He gave the room a quick scan, and seeing no one, ran to the pc. All that was open was his inbox, and it was just a single email. He could see the message clearly enough, 'urgent', and that only egged him on further. "He's going to kill me." He wasn't sure what to expect, but started to panic when the screen went black. It was when he saw the man's symbol, a chrome 'S' over black and heard the voice that he recognized the sender. "Slade," he didn't see anything on the screen, it was blank. The audio was faint; barely a hiss, but he could just hear the hoarse whisper of their most hated enemy over the speakers.

"She's dead, not the girl…Must kill it…Have to fight, have to kill. Not the girl, only the Demon. Use the Fallen, can't trust Richard…He called it back, been corrupted. Have to fight…Have to win," the screen flashed, and he saw him. His face covered in blood, two empty, bloody sockets, and more crimson pouring out of his broken mouth. He retched onto the floor, but still, he could hear the croak. "Raven's back."

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><p>Even though she was asleep, Raven was aware of what had transpired. She knew everything that was happening in the tower. It was her home, and her pet's, but now the secret was out; the weak Raven had died on that street all those days ago, and <em>she<em> was banished back to Hell. Richard, Nightwing, her lover, had brought her back with her father's death, and now she, the demon, would truly live for them both. She would not lose him, and would not die _again_.

She could hear the dead man's voice as if she had been there. Someone now knew the truth, and she had to protect herself. Moving quickly, she pressed her hands to Rick's chest and started to work. She had wanted to heal him gradually, teasing him with light touches and soft kisses until he was strong again, until she had him desperate for her touch and presence. But now, she had to be ready. He woke as the burn was faded with cool relief and she took his face in her hands. "Richard," she saw his eyes harden and knew he was paying attention. She only called him by his name when it was important. "I'm afraid. I'm worried that the others, when they see me, that they'll be afraid, that they'll try to hurt me. Maybe even try to kill me."

"Then we won't tell them," she felt his hands in her hair, and gave him a weak smile, something that she often did before the accident. "You'll be my secret that I'll never show the others."

"But what if they find out?"

"I would never tell them, and I won't let that happen," she smiled at him when she saw his gaze harden. She had seen her father's eyes glow like that while she was waiting in the pit, it meant only one thing. He would kill for her that was all she needed to know. But it would be so much more comforting to hear him say it.

"How, how do I know that? What if they try to kill me? I don't know how strong I am. I don't know if I can protect myself."

"I'll keep you safe."

"No matter what."

"No matter what," she smiled at his words. She would be safe, and he was hers. Nothing would happen to either of them. After all, he was her first, and nothing would happen to her first love.

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><p>"It was a sick joke, it has to be." He was pacing his room, looking from the photos on his walls to his door, then up to the ceiling, visualizing Nightwing in a drug-induced sleep. "Since when did Slade ever tell the truth?" <em>But when did he ever lie? <em>True, the guy was a sociopathic genius, he only sought to gain, but he never really did lie. He just never told the whole truth. The video seemed real, they had all seen death, and it looked like he was barely alive when it was sent. He knew that Rick was desperate to get her back, but he knew that his friend would never do anything so stupid. "Would he?"

The guy had gone to hell to get her back, and that was insane. But still, it was Raven, sure, she had her moments, but she was harmless, right. _Oh yeah, completely peaceful. _He never really forgot the times that she lost it, the way her father would take over her and try to destroy them. Hell, he had even been inside her mind, and that told him enough, the girl had a dark side to her.

"I gotta go talk to him." That was it. He was gonna go talk to him. Even if it meant that all the guy could do was nod because of the drugs, it would be enough. He just needed him to say something, tell him that he wouldn't put them in harm, that he would let her rest in peace. That all he had done was grieve and place flowers on her grave, maybe talked to her a little. That he didn't so something they would all regret.

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><p>He wasn't sure why she was acting this way. He just remembered lying in a drug haze, and feeling her power hit him like a tidal wave. He was sure that if hadn't been on the bed, he would have been thrown out the window. But what bothered him more was what she had said. "Would they really hurt you?" She was asleep in his arms, and he felt better than he had in years. Like he was stronger, faster. He knew that she always held back during her healings, that she was worried what might happen if she gave it all she got. Raising his arm, he realized she may have had a point.<p>

He was always strong, but the muscle seemed more pronounced, like it was going to rip out of his skin if he flexed too hard. Even in the dim light, he could see that she had taken his scars. He was sure that if he checked himself over, he would be flawless. She had remade him, and he was grateful. "Stop moving around," he laughed when she clutched him, and he stilled. He was willing to give her what she wanted, it was worth it.

"Rick, I need to talk to you about Rav-," He felt her stiffen while he was staring at Gar. He had frozen when he saw her. And he saw something he couldn't understand in his eyes.

"Gar, get out." He didn't move and the look just kept growing. She rolled off of him, and he felt her move behind him. He wasn't sure why, but he rose and stood between Gar and the bed. The way he was looking at her didn't seem right. "Gar," his eyes finally found his. "I gave you an order, get out."

"Slade is dead," he laughed then and watched Gar freeze. It didn't bother him. His life finally seemed complete. The man he had despised for years was finally dead, and he got the girl. _Well Bruce, I finally did something you never could do, I got the girl._

"Good. I'm glad he's dead and I hope he burns in Hell. Now, I told you to get out," he turned back to the bed, shielding her from view. She was his; no one else would look upon her.

"There is something else. He said that she isn't Raven." His shoulder tensed, but he didn't speak. "He said that she is dead, and that thing is only a monster." He looked to her, and didn't miss the anger on her face. It matched his own. "Slade said we had to kill her."

He spun then, and let his anger fuel him when he slammed Gar into the drywall, causing it to crumble. "And since when did we ever do what Slade says." He didn't panic when the man disappeared and the python wrapped itself around his arms. It was easy enough to pry himself loose, and took its head in his hands. This time, when he threw him, it went through the wall, and he followed, only stopping to grab his belt. It didn't bother him when the others panicked seeing Gar crash to the floor; all that mattered was what he had said. "You always wanted her," when the bear came at him, he grabbed its paw and twisted, smiling when he felt the joint pop free. "Admit it," he only shook his head when a crippled wolf tried to attack. "You had your chance, and now that I have her, you feel she can't have anyone." When it was close enough, he drew his staff and slammed its muzzle. He saw Gar now, nursing a broken jaw and a dislocated shoulder. "She is mine now, deal with it."

He tried to rush him, and slammed his staff over his head. He was straddling his back when he heard the garbled speech. "You gotta stop her, she's evil." He didn't hesitate to take his head in his hands.

"I'm giving you one chance, stand down and leave her alone." He was pleading with his friend now. Gar was like the little brother he never had. This was the same person who he had laughed with, pranked with, and loved. Now though, he was a threat to the person he cared about most. "Please Garfield," he didn't want to use his full name, but hoped that that would get through to him. That his name would shake him out of his stupor and show him that what he was doing was wrong. Slade was the evil one, not his Raven.

He could feel his body shutter when he started to shift. "I'm sorry," the crack seemed to be the loudest sound in the room. Whether it was because he snapped his friend's neck, or his heart was breaking, he wasn't sure. He could feel the others' eyes on him, but he didn't care. He had just killed his friend, and he hated himself.

Then she was there. He could smell her scent, and felt those cool hands on his back. "You had to Richard," it didn't matter that he knew she was right. Gar was dead, and by his hands. "Thank you." He could feel her in his mind, soothing him, and taking the guilt. He rose and held her.

"I told you," he was almost crushing her, but he didn't care. She was too important now, he couldn't lose her. "I'll never let anything happen to her." He heard the faint sound of machinery powering up, and released her. Sure enough, he turned and saw the cannon pointed towards him, and a glowing hand at her. Taking a step, he moved so she was directly behind him, and he could feel the rage pouring off her. "I won't let anything happen to her." He looked at them, and saw anger and disgust on Vic's face, while all he saw in Kori was sadness and hatred. "He was going to kill her, and I had no choice. I lost her once, and I won't lose her again."

"Rick, get away from it. We both know that that thing behind you is not her. You didn't see her. When you killed him, it was watching, almost enjoying it. That thing is Not Raven." He couldn't believe what Vic was saying. This was Raven, his adopted little sister, not a monster.

"What about you Kori?"

He expected to see tears fall, but she seemed to turn to stone. "Victor is right friend, that is not Raven; and you just killed your friend. Please step away, it must be destroyed."

With a sigh, he raised his staff with one hand, and an explosive in the other. "I see, you believe what a jealous fool says. Fine," he took a stance and drew his arm back to throw. "Who's next?"

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><p>Another cliffhanger, I know, but I couldn't help myself. One more chapter to go, I hope you all enjoyed this. Take it easy, -N.<p> 


	5. Creates Another Fiend

"_Creates Another Fiend." __Living Dead Girl; __Rob Zombie_

Almost there, just a little bit longer. Enjoy, -N.

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><p>When he threw the explosive, he wasn't sure what to expect. Maybe for them to move, attempt to get out of the way. Possibly try to hit the disc before it reached them and destroy it, but definitely, definitely not to just stand still like a deer in the headlights. He was already pulling Raven away from the room, wanting to get her as far from the fight as possible. He felt the blast's wave propel them farther from the two, and the flash and high-pitched whine behind him was the signal that he had to move quickly. When he saw the blinding light fly over his shoulder, close enough for him to feel the heat from the beam, he realized that they weren't planning on just <em>letting<em> them leave.

He shoved her away from him when he heard Victor's battle cry, and felt the guy tackle him into the door. From talking with him, he knew that before his accident, he had weighed two hundred and twenty pounds. After his life saving surgeries, and his own personal upgrades, Rick knew that Victor, "Cyborg" Stone was now tipping the scales at around three hundred and fifty. That being said, he wasn't surprised when they went through the steel door and landed outside.

Vic had his cannon pressed against Rick's head when the world had finally stopped spinning. "Rick, stand down man." He turned his face, and stared down the barrel. Victor was going for blood now; normally, his cannon had an opening around three and a half inches, it impressed him that the guy could shrink the caliber down what looked like an inch. If he fired, Victor wouldn't just knock him unconscious; he would blast a hole the size of a quarter through his skull. "I know you love her, but that thing isn't Raven," he watched as the cannon shifted back into an extended hand. "Let's take this thing, and destroy it. Raven is gone, and now something is just running around in her skin. Help me kill it, and we can forget all this."

His answer was out his mouth, and running down the side of Victor's chrome face by the time he finished speaking. Rick didn't close his eyes as the weapon reappeared. If they killed him, fine. It just meant that she would have more time to get away; he could die knowing she was safe. The muzzle was glowing with power as he stared it down. "Stop drawing it out, and just kill me already. That is, if you're still _human_ enough to do it." The last thing he saw on Victor's face was anger and hatred before he was swallowed by darkness and cold.

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><p>He wasn't sure what had happened, but knew that that thing had helped him escape. It still felt good though when he fired the gun into the rubble below. He wasn't sure how deep the beam had went, but knew that, a few minutes ago, he had been ready to kill his best friend because of something stupid the guy had said. Turning from the smoking crater, he made his way back to the tower, and presumably, a broken Kori.<p>

When he was back inside, he again saw Gar lying on the floor, his head twisted back over his shoulder, but no Kori. Then he heard it, a faint grunt and dulled scream. Looking towards the ceiling, he could see her, bundled in what he discovered was the carpet torn up from the floor. "Sit tight girl," again, he focused his weapons, and was able to cut her down. The moment she was free, he could see her eyes blazing green. She was pissed, and he didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure that out.

"Thank you," she looked around him, and he knew she was searching for Rick.

"He's gone, that _thing _pulled him out at the last minute."

"I understand, when you attacked, I went after it. When it noticed me, it started to hit me with everything in the room," he looked around, and could see the smoking furniture and shattered TV. "I could barely dodge it all, and then everything went black. I thought it had just done that, covered me with darkness. Not wrap me up like a present." He wasn't surprised when she started to stare at Gar and got quiet. Shaking his head, he turned from her and went to their friend.

With care, he lifted the body into his arms. He never realized it before, but the guy weighed a lot more than he looked. "Com' on," she followed him to the elevators, and soon, they were at the medical wing. He could hear her start to cry when they approached the coolers. He tapped into the tower's computer, and it responded, opening a door and sliding out a table. He took the time to turn his friend's head back around and wipe the blood from his face. Finished, he stopped for a moment to close his eyes, and slid him back into the cold. With a hiss, the door shut and he turned to the girl.

She was a wreck; he wasn't sure how she was even standing. When Raven died, it was several days before she even spoke. He couldn't begin to imagine how she was feeling after watching one friend kill another. "Star," she settled down to whimpers, and he took that as a good sign. "We can mourn Gar later, but for right now, we have to stop that thing." He turned away so she wouldn't see him shudder.

When Gar crashed through the wall with Rick on top of him, he panicked, but that turned to confusion when he saw Raven standing behind them, watching. He didn't know what to believe at that point, maybe Rick was right, maybe they had given up on her too soon; that he had been able to bring her back, and that Gar was just freaking out about seeing her. Then her face changed. He had expected her to start yelling at them to stop, or to use her powers to pull them away from each other, but she didn't. Her eyes were glued on the two fighting. When Gar changed back and was covered in blood, he saw her, no,_ it, _grinning at the scene, and giggle when his head was twisted back.

But then it changed back into a woman, hiding behind Rick and acting just like Raven would, comforting the guy because what he had to do. They had to kill it; they had to kill the thing that was wearing her face. "But Victor, what if Richard tries to stop us?"

With a sigh, he held out his arm, and heard her gasp at his weapon. "Then we'll just have to do whatever it takes."

* * *

><p>He knew she had saved him when he couldn't see anymore. She had moved him so many times this way, it didn't bother him anymore, it was cold and comforting, like snow, like <em>her. <em>He could feel her anger at the others through the energy, and he understood. Their friends had just tried to destroy her, and kill him; he wasn't going to forget that anytime soon. It could have been hours, or even just seconds, but the next thing he saw after Vic trying to gun him down, was rubble.

They may have been underground, or the building could have just been that large, he wasn't really sure, all he knew was the room they were in was enormous and filled with shadows. Part of him wanted to explore it, but he knew that had to keep moving. He had to put some distance between them and the others. It was then that he could sense her amusement with him, so out of spite he explored, and growled at their location. He could see the broken monitors and heavy machinery easily enough. The man may not be there at the moment, but the place was one of the old holes he would crawl into.

"Raven?" _Yes Rick? _He couldn't tell where she was, the shadows were so dense, he didn't doubt that she could disappear for as long as she desired. "What is this place?" The laughter echoes off the wall, instead of his mind. Searching, he found her. She was lounging on the throne that the man seemed to always torment them from, he legs hanging carelessly over the armrest. In the thin beam of light entering the ruins, she looked like she had always belonged there.

He could see the amusement on her face, along with the impatience. "You already know _where_, just say it."

"But why here?" She rose, and taking his hand, pulled him away from the light, and towards the shadows. Eventually, they stopped when he felt his foot brush across something.

"I took us somewhere they would never look for us. I hope you don't mind, but I don't think that he'll care that we're here." He felt her drop something into his hands. He recognized the shape, and the single hole in the metal was a dead giveaway, he didn't need to see it to know he was holding Slade's mask. He wanted to throw the object away, to get as far from it as possible. He remembered the last time he held one of the damned things, how it had almost destroyed his mind.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see that it hadn't been just a mask. He had to have been dead for several hours, maybe even days, and it looked like he had died suffering. It was more a torso with arms than anything else. The eyes were gone, and half a tongue lolled out of his mouth. Looking at his chest, he could see that both lungs were punctured, and his heart appeared to have been bruised, like it had been put in a vice. Even his head looked like someone had taken a hammer to him. He slowly raised his eyes, and saw her standing back in the light.

She was acting the same way when he first met her. It was like she was trying to be coy, evasive, something she often did but was never good at, at least with him. Hands clenched together, and eyes refusing to meet his, her way of saying she was constantly sorry for something that she may or may not have done. "Raven, what happened to him?" He kept the anger out of his voice; he was saving that for the people that tried to kill him. For now, he was willing to settle for just finding out what she had done.

"I'm sorry," he went to her, and sat down on the chair. "I was just so angry at what he did to you," he didn't object when she sat in his lap and pulled his arms around herself. "I was worried he was going to come back for you, and I didn't want to lose you." She spun in his arms, and he stared into her eyes. "Do you forgive me?"

He didn't hesitate to nod his head. He couldn't count the number of times he went and did something in the heat of the moment. He could forgive this; after all, it was _Slade. _If anything, he was jealous she didn't bring him along to watch. He had to ask though…"Did it hurt?"

She started to blush, and actually twirl her hair in her fingers, like what she had done was nothing spectacular; as if she had just gone to pick up milk instead of literally tearing someone apart. "I like to think so, he actually screamed when I pulled out one of his kidneys." He laughed, and then realized where they were; in a burnt out building, with a rotting corpse, hiding from their 'friends', with almost no weapons, and he was in half his uniform. _Perfect. _

He felt her tugging at his mind then, wanting attention, and he turned to watch the power pouring out of her. He knew he was staring as the broken stone flew back to the walls and seemed to merge together without leaving a seam. The shattered equipment pulled itself against the walls, and in moments, he heard it begin to groan and move. Eventually, even the lights started to flicker and glow. When she finished, he felt her slump against him, and he smiled at her efforts.

She had even repaired the monitors, and he could see them in the tower, plotting against them. Even though there was no sound, he didn't need to read their lips to know what they were saying, how the woman he held was a monster, and that he was insane for protecting her. All lies. "Raven," She opened those eyes, and he could see the exhaustion there, yet he couldn't help but ask. "I don't suppose you can sew too?"

She raised a hand to his bare chest, and he saw the corpse begin to glow black. "I think I can work out something, but for now," when she rose and pulled him behind her, he didn't resist. She seemed to know the entire layout of the complex, and eventually, she had found the bedroom. As she pulled him onto the mattress, it disgusted him that she wished to be in _his _bed, but it was what she wanted.

"Are you sure?" Her only answer was to pin him against the sheets.

"Of course, this is our home now, our _nest_." Again, he watched her eyes glow red and he didn't resist her. "What was his is now _ours_."

* * *

><p>He had patched into the city's mainframe to start looking for them, Richard and that thing. He knew that they would go to ground, but that didn't mean they'd disappear. When she was alive, Raven always gave off a type of energy. When her powers flared up, it was even more noticeable. When he father first started nosing around the city, he left behind an energy field that people could feel, but when he was forced back to hell, ability to leave that 'mark' was left with Raven.<p>

From the map, he could see the blip coming off of the tower. It made sense, he figured. It had to use a lot of energy to get them _both _away. "Anything?" he turned, and saw Kori pacing the room. She had changed after they put Gar away. The only glow in her eyes was anger. No happiness, no innocence, just hatred for that thing. Maybe when this was all over, things would get better. Maybe.

"Nothing yet, but something'll pop up soon. We just need to wait." He went back to the computer, and looked for the telltale blip on the screen.

"Do you think he was right?" He turned from the monitor to look at her. "That we did ignore her, that maybe we should have tried harder to get to know her." It had been years since Kori got here, stumbling over Basic English and nursing an addiction to mustard. Now, she had a handle on the language, and they realized just how intelligent she was. He knew what she was asking, hell; he had been wondering that since the day of the funeral.

"I don't know Star," her eyes twinkled for a moment when he used the name she gave herself. "Maybe he was. Let's face it, when did we ever take the time to notice her." He took his head in his hands. "She acted like it didn't bother her, but we all know that it did. Rick is feeling some heavy guilt for not paying any attention to her, and now we know he cared about her. When whatever creature it was crawled into her skin, and it came back to him, I think he lost his mind."

He didn't know when he did it, but the next thing Vic knew, he had his cannon out, and was powering it up. "Now that he has her, I don't think he is above anything. We both saw him kill Gar to keep that thing safe. I hate to say it, but, we might have to bring him down to put Raven back in the ground."

He expected her to object, to argue with him and say that they could save. Instead, he only got a nod. It was then he heard it, a quiet chime.

He spun to the computer, and the coordinates put them in the middle of the industrial district. He knew it was them. He hadn't seen a power reading that big since Trigon crossed over into their world. He heard the growl over his shoulder, and had to agree. Rick wasn't the same man he was three weeks ago. He was a killer now, a criminal, someone they had to bring down. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>The first thing he was aware of was music. It started low, but he recognized the melody. It was Beethoven, if he had to guess, probably his eighth. It didn't really surprise him that Slade listened to classical, it made sense. The music was high, powerful, and mighty in its own right, just like the man. He wandered the rooms, and eventually found her. She was back in what he would call the 'throne room', lounging against the seat, staring at the monitors. "You're awake, good." He wandered to her side, and smiled at her grin. "I hope you don't mind, but I needed the noise, even with the equipment running, it was too quiet."<p>

He didn't want to admit how much he enjoyed the bed, or her being there. As much as he had come to despise Slade, he had to admit that the guy knew how to live. He couldn't think of a time after his parents dying that he had slept more than three hours a night. "I am and you're right, it was too quiet." His eyes fell on the screens searching for the others. "What's been happening in the tower?"

"They left, I don't know where though." She just adjusted herself, and he couldn't help but watch her. The way she sat, it was as if she belonged there, ruling. _Like father, like daughter. _He felt her eyes on him then, and the familiar feeling of her probing his mind. It wasn't painful; in fact, it felt like a cool wind against his skin, pleasant. But he didn't doubt that she could make the pain legendary. _Of Course._

"I think it is safe for us to assume that they are coming here."

He didn't smile when she quirked an eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"

"Because lately, that's how our luck has been running. We have to believe that they were able to figure out where we are, and that they are coming for you. Which they won't get." He smiled at her growl, it was strange that she was acting this way, but given the way life has been lately, he didn't blame her.

"I finished your suit," when she forced the clothing into his hands, he wanted to shove them back at her. What he had stood for death and pain. He had done many things lately, but he wouldn't wear his colors.

"No."

"Please, it will give you an edge when they come." She was forcing them back into his arms before he could object. "Besides, it will make me happy." It was that last statement that had him changing. Again, he found himself surprised. He expected the armor to be bulky and uncomfortable; instead it felt like he was just in his skin. He tried to keep from panicking though when she placed the cold metal against his face.

"Take it off," he watched her shake her head, and continue to fasten it to his face. When he finished, he felt a slight pressure against the metal, as if she were stroking his face.

"No, it will work for you." He wanted to argue, but then he heard something. It wasn't like their tower alarms, but close to it. _What is, _he turned to the screens and saw them standing outside what he guessed was the entrance. "I'll handle Kori, you take Victor." He nodded and started to run towards the sound of metal twisting. She was fading into the dark when he spotted them inside their sanctuary.

"Be careful."

* * *

><p>He didn't waste time when they found the building. "Remember Kori, hard and fast." He hit the door just like he said, and felt it shatter under his hands. When it caved in, he realized just how deep they were in. The room was covered in darkness. They couldn't see more than five feet in front of them, where the light from outside ended. He was already moving when he saw the guy, Slade. He knew the man anywhere. "Where are they Slade?" He watched the man cock his head to the side, and he took off. "Kori, find them, he's mine."<p>

Vic didn't wait for a response; he just went after the figure, but soon realized that he wouldn't catch him. "Screw this," he started to fire, and was surprised when he actually managed to get a hit. He didn't remember ever being that lucky, any other time, he would be celebrating. "Ready for your whoopin' boy?" That was when he heard the laugh. It made his skin crawl, scratchy and sore, like he had been going for hours. "What's so funny Slade?" He watched the guy point to where he was standing.

He jumped back, expecting a bomb; instead, he realized what he was standing in, correction, _who _he was standing in. The body was huge, and well into rot. It took all his effort not to vomit onto it. When he raised his eyes, he saw that Slade was standing, still laughing. "That, dear Victor, _was _Slade," he felt his jaw hit the ground when the mask came off. It was Rick, wearing the dead man's armor, with an almost maniacal look in his eyes. He steeled himself when he pulled his staff. "You were saying something about giving me a 'whoopin'?"

* * *

><p>Kori wasn't sure what she was looking for, but knew that she had her orders. <em>Find them. <em>She eventually found the main room, when she heard the quiet sound. At first, she thought she had just imagined it, but them she realized what it was, crying. She summoned her power, and scanned the area, when she found it. It was curled up in the corner, weeping heavily, and didn't seem to know she was there. "What are you doing?"

It looked up at her, and she saw something on its face, fear. "Kori, is that you?" She approached, wanting to comfort her, until she realized that it wasn't Raven.

"It is me, what have you done with Rick?" She was again confused when it started to cry harder.

"I don't know. When Victor almost killed him, I just grabbed him and we ran. When we got here, Slade attacked, and took him. I just woke up, please, don't hurt me." She could see the large bruise on its face, and could make out the shape of a fist. Maybe this was Raven, and they were wrong, maybe Vic just wasn't seeing things clearly? What if he was just confused?

"I believe you, come on, let's go find them." She was lifting Raven to her feet, and pulling her away from the room. "We'll find them, and then go home."

"No." She wasn't ready when she was, again, surrounded in energy. "I won't let you find _my _Richard. I waited long enough while he fawned over you, and tolerated your disgusting relationship with him, so I won't let you find him.

"What would you do, if you were to find him? You would apologize, give him a beat up puppy-dog look, and he would be following you around just like last time." She felt the pressure getting tighter, and she tried to break it, but couldn't. "I'm surprised that you actually believed these," she watched it raise its hand to its cheek, and wiped the bruise away. "I am back, and refuse to leave."

Kori felt her vision start to blur, and stopped struggling, waiting for the pressure to leave, or finish her. "I am going to let you live, provided you never follow us." She didn't wait for an answer, just dropping the other to the ground. Satisfied that Kori would not awaken, she wandered away, smiling widely. "Oh Richard."

* * *

><p>He smiled as he dodged yet another blast from the cannon. Rick had to fight the urge to laugh at him. He always knew that he held back against the others in practice, but he didn't realize just how slow they were. He figured that Vic would have been able to hit him at least once, what with all the cybernetics in his body, apparently not. "Is that really the best you can do?" He dodged another blast, but it was closer, he actually felt the heat on that one.<p>

_Enough, _he ran close, and whispered into the man's ear. "Only human." He heard the scream, followed by the dull thud of metal hitting the ground. Turning, he could see him nursing what was left of his left arm, arcing electricity and what appeared to be blood pouring out of the stump. "You really think I don't know about your weaknesses? Before I formed the team, I made sure to find out how to bring all of you down." He could see the fear and disgust in his former friend's eyes. "You know about the eighteen weaknesses you possess, what would you say if I discovered twelve more?" Again, more fear. "What you just experienced was number five. Just walk away from us."

He watched as Victor fell to his knees, and he moved towards him. _Perhaps the blood loss was worse than I thought. _"We'll leave; you'll never see us, never hear from us again, why do you care what we do? Sure, she is different, but it's in a good way." He knelt near the ruined limb, and again said the key word. The blood stopped, and power was restored. "What do you say?"

He was unprepared for the hand around his neck. He tried to speak, but he couldn't get the words out, he could feel his bones straining under the weight of those fingers. "You changed Rick." He noticed that his voice had changed. It was flat and monotone, very unlike him. "I don't know what that thing did to you, but you're different. I'm going to have to bring you in, you did things that you said you'd never do. I'm sorry."

He dropped him when Rick slammed his hands into the sides of his head. "I'm sorry Vic," he stepped back, creating space between them. "But, since you can't take a gentle hint, would you like to hear what your bio-organic shutdown keyword is? Its-," he felt a sharp sting in his throat, followed by a second in his chest, high on the left. Looking down, he could see his suit burned black, could smell his charred flesh, and he fell to the ground. _So this is how it ends? _"Raven, I'm sorry."

* * *

><p>Victor walked slowly over to him, feeling rage at himself for what he had to do. "You left me no choice Richard. I'm sorry." He felt it in the room then, the temperature seemed to drop to freezing.<p>

"You killed him." The statement wasn't filled with hate, or malice, it just sounded like it was giving him a lecture. He scanned the room, and couldn't find it. He noticed the lights had failed, and he powered his weapons, expecting it to come at him from any angle. "He always liked you, you know. Always respected you, even looked up to you, and now you killed him." He could see its eyes then, glowing in the dark, and fired. He panicked when he heard its laugh.

"Don't try again, or I may have to hurt you." A single light started again, and he saw it kneeling over Rick, kissing the hole in his throat, and stroking the wound in his chest; like he was simply asleep instead of cooling on the ground. When it raised its head, he saw the crimson on its lips. "I expect him to be buried, with honor. He did nothing except what he thought was right." He felt it grab him in its power, and he didn't struggle as it dragged him towards it. "If I find out he was cremated, or anything else happens to him, I'll come back and say the magick words," he found himself staring into its eyes, and he knew it was telling the truth. "Understand?"

He could only nod as it released him and he fell to the ground with a clang. It knelt down once more, and giving Rick a single kiss disappeared, taking the darkness with it. When the light returned, he made his way over to the body, and lifting him, pointed his stump to the wall. He felt the explosive leave his body and hit the stone, and heard the low 'beep' as it armed itself. He continued to wander the halls, firing charges into the rock. When he found Kori weeping in the main room, he understood what had happened. That thing had gotten to her, gotten inside her head, but he was grateful she was alive. She fell in line behind him, and again he kept arming the building. When they were outside, he walked to his car, lowering Rick into the rear seat. When Kori joined him in the front, he activated the charges, but felt nothing as the fire flew into the sky. Instead, they went home, to bury two friends

* * *

><p>I've got a short epilogue in the works, so I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you liked it, if you hated it, please let me know.<p>

Take it Easy,

-N


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue

First things first, thanks to all the people who did and who will read this in the future. I would be lying if I said that I didn't enjoy writing this, call it a guilty pleasure, but I did. Remember, I always take requests, but ask that they be more than just one or two sentences. –N

* * *

><p>He hadn't rested since the day they brought him home. People were asking questions, what had happened, who killed him and Gar, he did the only thing he could think of. Victor lied. He couldn't bring himself to tell the others what had really happened that night. He just kept repeating the same thing over and over. "Slade, he came and took them. We found them on our front step three days later." The city was in mourning, already talking about renaming schools and building monuments to the people the city had lost. What he couldn't handle was how Kori was acting.<p>

From the second she returned to the tower, she had run to her room. He could hear her talking and screaming at someone in the room. He knew it was her language, and again, he was cursing himself for not learning it. Eventually, she came out and said that she was leaving Earth. It didn't surprise him when she explained why. She told him that she just couldn't live there anymore, that she had lost too many people she had cared about in too short a time. When he watched her leave, part of him wanted to join her. But he knew he couldn't, now that it was just him, he had to prepare the burials, and restock the tower with heroes.

It was easy enough to get temps to fill in at the moment. It seemed every member of the Titans wanted to come and help, and to say goodbye. He didn't stop them when they went to the medical wing to cry. If anything, it helped him convince them what had happened. That Slade had killed them and nothing else. Almost everyone who came to mourn believed him. Almost everyone.

When he sent the message to Gotham, he wasn't expecting the man to be at the tower on the same day. He was ready though when the man came. He knew what to expect from what Richard had told them. That he would give one or two word questions, and expect the truth immediately. Thankfully, he was somehow able to lie to the man. He tried hard though, to keep Richard there with them. He explained that he was Jump's hero, that he should be buried with his friends. But that man had none of it. He just loaded the body onto his plane and said that he would be buried at home, with his family.

Victor wasn't sure what he had meant by that, but knew that he couldn't stop him. What scared him though, was that thing would probably be coming to see him now. It will have known that they were burying Gar today, when it found out that Rick wouldn't be there, he shuddered at what it might do.

* * *

><p>It was almost three AM when he felt it in his room. He knew that it was there, considering that all of the electronics around him were shutting down. He forced himself to remain still as he watched each bulb in the room explode and go out. Eventually, all the lights were gone, and the room was silent. He started to scan the room, but didn't find anything. He was ready to lie to himself at that point. That maybe he was just stressed and overworked, that that thing wasn't going to come. That the reason everything went haywire was because of a power surge. When it was sitting on his chest, he realized he could never be that lucky.<p>

"Where is he?" He could see the blood still stained to its face. What scared him though was that it appeared fresh. He felt its hand push through the metal plate over his chest, and he couldn't stop the scream. Its fingers seemed to poke and prod anything they touched. He found himself able to breathe again when it pulled its hand free and showed him his blood. "I'll ask you once more, where is he?"

Maybe it was the desire to live, he wasn't sure, but he told it all the same. "The Batman took him away today, said that he was taking him home to be with his family." He felt the thing press its hands against the wound on his chest, and felt its power pulling metal and flesh back together.

"This is the final mercy I give you." He watched it rise off of his chest, and go towards his door. "If you ever try to find us again, I will come back, and personally turn you into a toaster, understood?"

He could only nod his head as the thing seemed to melt into the shadows, and he soon realized that it was gone. It might have just been a couple of seconds after it left, or even a few hours, when his mind suddenly locked onto something it had said. "Us?"

* * *

><p>He still couldn't believe that the man he raised, the first of the robins, the person who he considered for all intents and purposes his son, was gone. When word reached him of what had happened, he moved quickly, determined to get there before anyone else. He found his teammate waiting with his body. The kid was quiet, and he knew that he was lying. He would find out what had happened later, but getting his son home was more important.<p>

When he arrived back at the cave, he moved quickly to the surface, and met Alfred at the entrance. While he showed no emotion, he knew that the butler was suffering as greatly as he was. He was grateful that the man was remaining professional for the moment; they would both grieve after he was finished. Navigating through his property, he found what he was looking for.

It was a small door that he had carved directly into the earth himself. Entering, he quickly found what he wanted. He had built the room as a final resting place for the Bats, a home where heroes could be laid to rest if they had nowhere else to go. He wished though, that he would never have had to do this. No father should ever have to bury their son. Almost robotically, he dressed his boy in his suit he designed. Nightwing, son of the Batman, was dead. When he finished, he didn't stick around to wait for his friend to speak. The rage and loss he was feeling needed to be quenched.

* * *

><p>The man was begging for him to just take him to prison, not to fight him. He knew that he should, this one wasn't going to resist him; he was the intelligent one. Looking around, he realized just what he had done. The first, he had broken his shoulder, and struck several nerve clusters in his back, he might be able to walk after a few days. The second, he wasn't sure if he would walk again, at least not without a crutch or cane.<p>

"Batman," he turned from the broken men, and faded into the alley.

"Go ahead Oracle." He could hear the sounds of sirens echoing behind her, and ran to the car. Something was happening at home. He wouldn't lose someone else, not so soon after Dick.

"Something has happened in the Cave." He was already returning and he didn't care what happened to those around him; he just needed to get home.

"Seal it off, call Alfred down, and activate the defenses. Don't let anyone get down to you two."

"Bruce, the alarms aren't coming from this cave," if it was possible, he began to drive even faster. "It came from the other cave."

"Stay where you are, do not move." He was already moving along the private drive to where he left Dick. He would not lose his son. Whoever was there would truly feel the wraith of the Batman.

The door was still shut and the locks were engaged when he approached. He quickly entered the override code into the door, and ran to where he left his son. "He's gone." Looking to the slab of stone, instead of his son, he saw something worse. The rabbit looked like it had been dead for several hours at least. He could see that someone had cleaned it, and put it on the stone, next to his son's mask and an envelope.

When he came closer, he could see that the person, whoever it was, had left several organs still inside the creature. Ignoring it for the moment, he opened the letter.

_Batman,_

_Your son, Richard, was a truly great man. He took me in when no one else would, and made me a part of something. He showed me that I wasn't just a demon, that I was a person. Eventually, I_ came_ to love him, but never had the courage to tell him._

_I was taken from him when we were still children, and he went to hell to bring me back. That showed me just how much he cared about me, and just increased my desire for him. It was on my birthday when I decided to actually tell him how I felt. Sadly though, I died that day. But apparently, he realized what I meant to him that day._

_He brought me back once again; I promised myself that I would never lose him. I have taken him with me, and we will live a long life together. Do not attempt to find us, and that would _make me very angry. We will visit, because I know he would want you to meet someone.

_Take a good look at the creature, it should be the only hint you need. If not, let's just say that this way was more exact, Grandpa. _

_Raven_

He looked up from the paper to the creature on the stone. Lifting the corpse, he opened the wound, and after inspecting it, was confused. Slowly though, his figured it out. "Richard, I'm so sorry."

* * *

><p>It was easy enough to retrieve her Richard. He was hers, and she wasn't going to lose him, ever. After getting his body, she almost joyfully left the letter and the animal for his guardian to find. It would be quite easy for her to bring him back; she had slashed her wrist and was pouring her life into him. Soon, he would react and they would leave. Watching his face, she absently rubbed her hand across her stomach. "Richard, you have to come back," she smiled when she felt his body beginning to move. "After all, my daughter deserves to be raised by her father."<p>

* * *

><p><em>Blood on her skin<em>

_Dripping with Sin_

_Do it Again_

_Living Dead girl_

I hope everyone enjoyed the ending. I know I did. For those of you who don't know, before pregnancy tests could be bought at home, doctors would inject the urine of women into rabbits, and if the animal's ovaries started to produce estrogen, that meant you were pregnant. Thanks again for all the reviews and for taking the time to read this through.

Take It Easy,

-N


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